I'll Wear You Like a New Tattoo
by ChaosOrdo-FFL
Summary: After leaving the home of his abusive uncle, his sisters in tow, Harry was living a -mostly- calm life. Until he decided to get a Tattoo and Met Tom. Suddenly his life was filled with more excitement than he ever dreamed.
1. Not Enough

Special Thanks to Belgaris. I wouldn't be here without her help. I'd

be Lost without her. ^_^

I Don't Know That Much About the Tattoo/Piercing Industry. Most of This Stuff I Read Online, So DON'T Sue Me!

This is My First Fic, Have Mercy on Me!

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own These Characters. They Belong to J.K. Rowling and Are Her Intellectual Property. I am Not Receiving Any Profit From This. I Think. Meh.

Chapter 1: Not Enough

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Harry sighed as he brushed his long hair getting ready for just another regular day. Oh, don't get him wrong. He loves his life, especially now that he's away from his abusive uncle, and things can get crazy with his weird and freaky family, but he gets so bored sometimes. Okay, a lot. He only wants a little more excitement in his life. Little did he know how much he needed excitement in his life, and that soon he'll get more than enough "excitement" to last a lifetime... He put his hair into a tight bun at the back of his head and smiled at his reflection. Time for another day on the job.

"Mr. Richard." Harry lifted his head from where he was making a sketch to regard his boss' boss.

"Yes, Sir?"

Jacob Wilson looked at him with barely concealed disdain. "How are those new sketches coming along? The clients will be here in a month."

As usual, Harry ignored the strong aura of dislike coming from the man, "They're coming, sir."

"I hope you plan on cutting that hair of yours before the clients arrive. The Japanese are a very disciplined people, you know." Harry mentally rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt that the length of my hair would be a matter of serious concern to the clients, sir, if any concern to them at all."

"Hmph. Well at least take out those earrings of yours Richard. Don't want to give our clients the wrong impression, now do we?"

Harry closed his eyes and forced himself not to snap at the man, but instead gave the man a challenging smile and met his gaze head on. "And what impression would that be, sir?"

They stared silently at each other for a moment before Wilson finally spoke, "Just get those sketches done, Richard." He turned and walked away.

Harry watched him until he disappeared from view.

"All right there, Harry?"

Harry looked up at Nelson where he was leaning on the partition between their workspaces.

"Fine, Nelson. I just hope that Cedric comes back soon. I'd like to have as little contact as possible with Jacob Wilson."

"Same here. That guy's a git."

Harry snorted, "Get back to work, Nelson."

Nelson saluted, "Right away, sir!" , and ducked back into his own workspace.

Harry shook his head in amusement, then looked down at his desk. He wrinkled his nose at his last sketch, crumpled it and threw it in the wastepaper basket. He sighed as he grabbed another piece of paper. Let's see if he can get the final sketch done before lunch.

Tom Patrick breathed deeply as he rolls his shoulders and flexed his neck. Coming to work is becoming tedious. He flexed his fingers which were still gripping the steering wheel. Maybe he should make Luke manager and start travelling again. He had established a successful, thriving business, like he wanted. He's causing sometimes excruciating pain to others on a near daily basis, getting away with it, making money from it, and without having to remain within the royal navy to boot! Like he wanted. The fact that he gets to make beautiful art almost everyday is just a bonus. He is satisfied, yes, pleased even. But is he happy? At that thought he scowled and sneered at his reflection in the rear view mirror. Such a sentimental thought, he should get rid of it. So he did. Or so he thought...

He exited his car, locking it with the remote. When he was inside, his gaze immediately went to the wall clock. 6:34 am. None of his staff will be in at this hour, except Sebastian. He put up his coat and set out to find the ink master. Simply turning the corner of the employee hallway confirmed his suspicions. A dim purple glow was leaking out from underneath a door two doors down from his own office. He stopped at it and knocked, shouting through the wood,"Try not to spill any ink on yourself, Seb! Remember last time!" He gave a smirk to the door, for he had no doubt that Sebastian was glaring at it that very moment. He then turned on his heel and went to his own space. It was simple, sleek, elegant and sterile. All his real art was at home. He walked around his desk and sat down in his large, custom made office chair, leaning his head back into the headrest. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, processing his thoughts. Seb needed another new supply of pigment and carriers and Bella needed more restraints, as did Bobby. Francis wanted to get in on scarification and was requesting time off to go get training. Luke's little brother was coming in to be his apprentice and the staff's honorary lackey if he allowed it. How all very tedious. With a deep breath, he leaned forward and got to work.

"Harry!" Harry gave his elder sister a hug, "Hello, Mione. How have you been?"

She gave him a big smile as they sat down to lunch. "Excellent! Now, my dearest brother, how have you been?"

He took his time in answering her, waiting until after they'd given their orders before doing so. "Not so good. My boss is out sick so I have to do half of his work and his boss is a git."

"Harry!"

"What? That's exactly what he's acting like." He took out a pen and began drawing on a napkin. Hermione sighed,

"Oh, Harry, I'm sure he's just a very strict man. You shouldn't pay his behaviour any mind, I'm sure he just cares for the company."

At those words Harry stared blankly as his sister for a minute. "No, Hermione. He is just a git, plain and simple. He's a complete hypocrite!" He leaned forward and said to her in a low voice, "I heard that the company's owner also has long hair, not to mention, an abundance of piercings and tattoos, but I haven't heard of him badgering the guy to cut his hair or take out his body jewellery! He's a hypocritical kiss arse! Cedric himself told me so!"

Hermione blinked. "Well. Umm... I'm sorry to hear that. But just leave the matter well enough alone, hmm? Just do your work, then go home. When is Cedric coming back anyway?"

Harry sighed and slumped back into his seat. "We don't know yet. So for an indefinite time period I'm going to have to put up with that git."

Hermione reached over and patted his hand soothingly. "I'm sure everything will be fine." He snorted and shook his head. "I hope so. For his sake and mine." That earned him a slap on the wrist. He ignored it and leaned forward with a cheeky grin and mischievous eyes. "So, 'Mione, how's your relationship with Krum going?" She pinched his wrist hard. "Ow! Hermione! Can't a brother enquire about his sister's love life?"

"No!", She replied vehemently.

"Fine! Fine!", He laughed as he raised his hands in a placating gesture. Soon enough their food arrived and they ate in an amiable silence. All three siblings were a quiet lot, their usual silences only interrupted by Selena's humming or the scratch of pencil on paper as Harry drew or Hermione took notes.

"'Mione?"

"Yes?", She answered as she paid the check."I'm thinking of getting a tattoo." He eyed her warily, waiting for an explosion and wasn't disappointed.

"What?!" Several other diners looked over at their table in annoyance. Hermione quickly mouthed "sorry" at them before turning back to Harry with fire in her eyes. "Where did that idea come from? Did Sirius spawn this? Or is it to annoy that boss of yours? Because that is not a good enough reason to permanently mark your skin!"

"No!", Said Harry vehemently, "I'm not going to do it for him! Or Sirius! I'm going to do it for me."

"I-", Hermione floundered, obviously not knowing what to say.

"Mione." Harry reached across the table and held her hand in a reassuring grip. "I want to do this. I think of tattooing as a beautiful art and a great way to express yourself and- ", Harry sighed. "I want one. And I'd really love your support."

Hermione looked at him carefully, trying her hardest to see if he truly meant what he was saying. Seeing the determination on his face, she finally spoke. "I can see that you really want this. But Harry, ", she gave his hand a squeeze, "please, think about it, for my sake if not for yours."He chuckled at her words, "Hermione, I've been thinking about this for years now. Since we were with uncle Donovan."

She gasped and covered her mouth with her free hand in shock. "That long?!" She gave him a sad look. "Oh, Harry..." He didn't meet her gaze, just looked at their entwined hands. It was only when she covered his hand with her other one did he finally meet her gaze. She had a fire blazing in her eyes, the fire she inherited from their mother. "Alright. I'll stand by you. I assume you've done the correct amount of research?", She asked primly.

He gave a small laugh and replied, "Yeah. Should I send you some material?"

"I'm afraid that won't be necessary. I'll do my own research. I'll take the liberty of finding a proper parlour. I'll be going with you, of course."

"Of course.", He replied with amusement colouring his voice. He covered their hands with his free one and gave them a kiss. "Thank you, 'Mione. I don't what I'd do without you."

"Rather little, I believe.", She said.

He only laughed. Not long after that, they left the restaurant and parted ways soon after, Harry with a huge grin on his face and considerably lighter shoulders.

Tom pressed the intercom button, "Natasha, is Francis with a client?"

"No, sir."

"Send him in."

"Right away, sir."

He released the intercom button and settled back into his chair, steepling his fingers and gazing at his desk. Within a minute there was a knock on his door and he barked out, "enter!".

Francis entered, closed the door behind him and sat down in one of the moderately comfortable chairs before his desk. "You Called?", He asked in a deep rumble.

Tom gave the wolfish man a deep, searching stare. "You've been requesting leave to acquire training in the art of scarification."

Francis opened his mouth to speak.

"Stop."

He snapped his mouth shut.

"I don't need to hear any of your drivel. You're wasting enough of my time. There is no need for you to be acquiring scarification training. I already have 4 people here who are trained in the art, and it's not even that popular, so why should I, your boss, hold your job open for you as if I'm a teenage girl holding a friend's place in line for a One Direction concert, when I could just as easily find someone to fill your spot? Do you think we're friends?"

Francis swallowed heavily.

"If you do, you are quite wrong. Most of us here are sadists, yes, but we're also artists, and this is also a business, not a torture house. I'm getting tired of having to explain this to you imbeciles every other week." Tom glared at the fool before him. "My answer is no. Now get out of my sight."

Francis stood and left the room without another word. Tom leaned back into his chair and began to massage his temples. Fools, the lot of them. What he wouldn't do for a smoke right now, but it would have to wait until after work. He sighed. It was all becoming so very tedious.


	2. An Interest

Chapter 2: An Interest

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Harry stepped out from the taxi and quickly made his way onto the

pavement as Hermione paid. He looked up at a nearly all black building

with a sign 'Dolor Gignit Ars' written on it in a thin curling script

in acid green, contrasting sharply with the dark background. When he

felt Hermione stand next to him, without facing her, he asked;

"Is this the place?"

"Yes. 'Dolor Gignit Ars'. Latin for 'Pain Creates Art'."

He turned and faced her and gave her an incredulous look.

"'Pain Creates Art'?! And you're completely comfortable in letting me

get a tattoo from here?!"

She gave him a disgruntled look. "I never said I was completely

comfortable in letting you get a tattoo from a place like this, I'm

not completely comfortable in you getting a tattoo from anywhere! But

since you want one so bad, I tried to find the best." She walked to

the tinted glass door of the shop and let herself in without looking

back to make sure he followed.

Harry sighed to himself. Great. Now he was going to have to find a way

to appease her. After giving the Exterior another look, he walked to

the door and let himself inside. As soon as he was in, he set to

examine the interior. It was large and very open. And it was white.

All white. The ceiling, the floors, the walls, stark white. Combined

with the faint smell of disinfectant in the air and the fluorescent

lighting, it reminded him too much of a hospital. He went over and

took a seat next to his sister on a black leather sofa, gazing at the

many pictures of tattoos with dark frames. At least the frames and the

dark furniture were there to serve as contrast to the stark whiteness.

No sooner than he sat, a tall, tall man stepped into the waiting room

and Harry couldn't take his eyes off of him.

Tom pushed himself away from his desk and stood. That was enough

paperwork for the day, now he wanted to do something that might

actually be interesting. His hand automatically went to the intercom

button, but he paused. He was in for some exercise, so he would walk

to the front desk instead. When he stepped out of his office, it was

to the sound of the street. Meaning that the front door was open.

Meaning someone was coming in, or going out. Time to see who that

someone was.

The guy was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, looking like he

had a head on Harry in height and long black hair pulled back from a

face which seemed as if it were sculpted by the gods. He was wearing a

simple, all black outfit of a V-neck T-shirt, cotton trousers and

loafers. His short sleeves and low neckline exposed completely

tattooed arms and a mostly tattooed neck and chest with small patches

of creamy skin showing. As the man came closer, Harry could see

snakebites, a septum piercing, a bridge piercing, pointed ears which

were filled with multiple piercings, claws which looked like they

could do some significant damage and the most eye-catching feature of

all, kohl lined blood-red eyes with reptilian pupils which were gazing

at Harry in curiosity. At. Harry. He felt a chill go down his spine at

having those fascinating eyes on him.

"How may I help you?"

Oh, gods! That voice, it was cultured and oh so deep and sensuous with

a bit of a rasp. He broke out of his daze at feeling a sharp pain in

his ribs. Hermione had poked him.

"You're staring, you said you researched things like this." Hermione

hissed in his ear. Hermione didn't wait for an answer, but instead

turned to the -smirking- man and addressed him. "We're here to get my

brother a tattoo. I called in, made an appointment and was referred to

a, um...Luke?"

"Ah, I see. Well, he's not available at the moment." He frowned at the

front desk with obvious displeasure. "Would you like to make another

appointment?"

At that Harry finally spoke up. "No! I'd like to get it done today."

The man's eyes snapped to Harry once more and then, he gave Harry a

once- wait. More like a thrice over! "Alright. I'm sure I can find

someone to do you. Did you bring the necessary documents?"

"Oh! Certainly.", Hermione reached into her handbag, pulled out a

stack of papers stapled together and handed them to the man who began

leafing through them.

"Everything seems to be in order. I'll just get someone..." He turned

half-way, but then seemed to change his mind. "Actually, I'll do it.

That is, if you don't mind."

"No, not at all." Harry ignored his sister who was giving him a knowing look.

"Excellent. The name is Tom Patrick. Let's get started."

When Tom walked into the waiting room, what he didn't expect to see

was two girls- no. A girl and a boy, sitting on his sofa, both with

almond shaped eyes and a slight but toned build. The girl had hazel

eyes and thick, curly, chestnut hair, looking prim and proper, while

the boy had emerald green eyes and thick, mostly straight, black hair

down to his waist, looking anxious. One could tell the two were

siblings just by looking at them. Their behaviour was amusing, to say

the least. When the girl mentioned Luke, he looked over at the front

desk which was devoid of Natasha, put two and two together and made a

mental note to deal with the two later on. But for now... Tom looked

over the boy appreciatively. For now, he'd get to know this,

delectable creature better.

After filling out the rest of the paperwork and paying, they were lead

into a room at the end of a hall. Hermione took the opportunity to

properly examine the room and make sure that there was no room for

cross-contamination.

"Sit there." Tom pointed at a plastic covered black leather chair.

Harry went and took a seat. He looked around as Tom went about washing

his hands."You said you wanted a custom tattoo. Do you have an idea of

what you want?"

"Oh! Umm..." Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded up

piece of paper. He unfolded it and handed to his artist. "Here you

go."

Tom looked at the seemingly professionally done design with raised

eyebrows, but said nothing. "Where do you want it?" ,Tom asked as he

went about making a stencil. "Right...here." Harry exposed his right

upper arm. He bit his lip nervously, but Tom didn't even blink twice

at the cigarette burn scars. Harry closed his eyes in relief.

He Rolled Harry's sleeve up tightly, then went over to a sink in the

corner and washed his hands for the second time since they entered the

room. After he dried them he put on a pair of black gloves.

"Excuse me." Harry groaned mentally. "Are those nitrile gloves?",

Hermione asked.

"Yes." Soon Tom was sitting on a swivel stool with wheels and cleaning

Harry's upper arm. After shaving and cleaning his arm again, Tom

moistened his skin with soap and water and placed the stencil on his

arm, left it there for a second or two, and then pulled it away from

his skin, revealing a purplish blue likeness of his design.

"This alright?" Tom asked, referring to the position of the stencil.

"Yeah, that's fine." Said Harry. He began to take deep breaths.

"May I have a look?", Hermione asked Harry, gesturing at the design.

"Um, sure." Harry replied with slight apprehension. Tom pushed back a

bit to allow Hermione enough room to take a look.

"Oh, wow..." Hermione breathed after bending over a bit to take in the

design better. "Oh, Harry." She took her eyes off of the design and

gazed at him with a bit of sadness. "It's beautiful."

Harry gave her a sad smile. "Thanks, 'Mione." She moved back to his left side.

"I'm just gonna let that dry." Tom said, referring to the stencil as

he stood and went about preparing his equipment.

"Do you mind if I grab a seat", asked Hermione, gesturing at another

plastic covered chair against the wall. Tom didn't even glance at her.

"Go ahead." He said as he made sure to open a new pack of sterile

needles in Harry's line of sight, then began inspecting them.

Hermione huffed a bit at the blatant disregard, but quietly pulled the

chair to Harry's left-hand side and took a seat.

After a few minutes of waiting, Tom was back on his stool wearing a

fresh pair of gloves.

"Ready?" Tom asked. He was finally ready to do the first line.

Harry nodded silently.

"I'm here." Hermione mouthed at him as she took his hand.

The buzzing sound of the machine filled the room.


End file.
